


Patching a Wound

by ChrisBranNorling



Series: Guild Wars 2 Stories [14]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Cisgender Character, Gen, Nonbinary Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 09:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10874235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrisBranNorling/pseuds/ChrisBranNorling
Summary: After Drephan gets saved from making a rash decision.1321 AE





	Patching a Wound

Being essentially dog marched back to the Vigil’s temporary camp outside the Priory is very uncomfortable, what with Drephan limping every other step of the way there. They finally plop down next to smouldering embers and stretch out their leg. Pulling up the hem of their robe reveals a gash in their calf that oozes sticky golden sap, staining the grey cloth darker.

They watch the crusader who retrieved them, Rancalagen, they think it is, putter about the camp for a few moments. The fire is stoked, flaring up with some added tinder. A bucket is packed with snow, resting above the flame to melt. White cloth is dragged out of a pack, ripped harshly into a few pieces.

“Boots off, pants off.” Rancalagen snaps, dragging off a glove with his sharp teeth.

“What?” Drephan blinks at him.

“Boots off, pants off,” he bites out again, leaning over and grabbing the heel of their foot and pulling upwards.

Bracing themself with an arm to not fall down, Drephan nods. “But why?”

Rancalagen looks over at Drephan, face deadpan before inspecting himself for abrasions.

“Proper explanations lead to promising results,” they pout, boots getting chucked behind them.

Once Drephan manages to gets their pants off, the asura drops the bucket of newly melted water at their side and shoves a small bag into their hands. White rags get dipped into the hot water, and he grabs Drephan’s ankle, small hand able to fit around it due to its thinness.

The heat doesn’t make Drephan flinch away as Rancalagen presses the cloth to the wound, cleaning the congealed sap. They do flinch when he looks up, brown eyes sharp and unrelenting.

“Fix yer pants, twiggy.”


End file.
